The Magic Sentence

Yesterday afternoon, I experienced a new "first" of motherhood... the first time I could not find one of my children for ten minutes -- which is way too long.

Howard had been playing with a ball on our stairs -- standing on the landing of our stairs (four stairs up from the main floor), putting the ball on our banister and watching it roll down to the ground, and then picking up the ball and doing it again.  Usually we have baby gates closed blocking off the different floors, but yesterday afternoon both Howard and Tracey were enjoying this game involving the banister, so I let the gate state open and the game continue.

Howard had his turn with the ball and let the ball go down the banister, and I was busy with Caroline and Addallee at the kitchen table, staring to prepare an afternoon snack.  Then, I realized Howard wasn't playing with the ball anymore.  After a minute of realizing he wasn't playing on the stairs, I realized I couldn't hear him at all -- he must have gone upstairs.  I couldn't hear any noise coming from upstairs so I knew I needed to see what he was up to.  I quickly headed upstairs to find Howard.  Howard was nowhere to be found.

At first I quickly checked the rooms hoping I wouldn't find him getting into trouble.  When I couldn't find him, then I thought he might be hiding in a room, so I looked in every room upstairs again, a little more thoroughly.  Then I looked again and turned on all the lights in every room upstairs, and started looking in closets and under beds.  Then I frantically checked the main floor and the basement, and I did not find him anywhere.  By then, both Tracey and Caroline knew Howard was missing and started helping me look.

They would both call his name, and Tracey would say, "Howard!  I miss you.  Oh, Howard, Oh, Howard, I miss you." 

Caroline would say, "Howa?  Are you?"

After multiple searches of the upstairs, main floor, and downstairs, I knew he had to be in the house because all the doors were locked from the inside.  I knew he might be hiding somewhere, but he also might be stuck somewhere and hurt or in trouble.  When he was still unaccounted for after many searches of the house, I started calling Hubby on the phone.  I knew he was still at work, but I sent him a text that said, "Call me immediately.  This is an emergency.  If you don't call me I am calling the police."  I also texted a few of his colleagues to have him call me.

I had no idea what else to do except continuing to look all over the house again, and again, and again. 

Finally, after the longest ten minute of my life, instead of just calling his name, I spoke the magic words, "Howard, I have a cookie!"

With that magic sentence, I suddenly heard a rustle from my closet, and my son's small voice say, "Cookie?!" 

In a closet, I had checked at least five times, Howard was hiding behind Hubby's sweatshirts playing with my makeup.  Luckily, the suggestion of a cookie was enough to encourage him to emerge.

The fact he was literally in the closet putting on makeup is something I'll think about another day... for now, I'm just happy he's found, and I will have to remember offering a cookie much sooner the next time a child is unaccounted for.